I Know Where the Summer Goes
by outlinedsilver
Summary: Post 4x22. But then the summer happened, and it seemed like loneliness always made them find each other somehow.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Gossip Girl franchise or any of its characters. I do, however, own a couple of characters in this story. The title belongs to the overwhelmingly brilliant Belle & Sebastian.**

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><p><em>Paralyse me with your kiss -<em>_  
><em>_Wipe those dirty hands on me -__  
><em>_Maybe we're looking for the same thing,__  
><em>_Maybe you're the one who'll complete me._

_~ Halo, Bloc Party_

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><p>||<strong> Chapter One <strong>||

There was only so much Dan could do at The Hamptons. Beaches and state parks bored him to tears, while aquariums weren't exactly his style of approach. He had checked out some golf course to sign up for – Eric had chuckled and shaken his head when he had told him that – but then quickly realised he didn't have the required forte (the realisation involved some not-so-funny mishaps with his leg, alright…). The only decent place he ended up going to was a historical farm museum that he later decided was more of a family spot.

And as far as Eric was concerned, as much as Dan knew him to be a complying companion, Dan also knew that Eric scarcely had a taste for subtitled movies and modernist poetry. And since the moment Dan witnessed Eric meeting their gay Spanish neighbour, Felipe, he knew that the major part of his companionship won't be spared to him.

He could only draw the conclusion that his pseudonym was doing him justice. He felt _lonely_.

On one such lonesome night Dan was going through the movies he had brought from the loft. He had very specifically picked which movies to bring, in case his Netflix queue got exhausted…

But that didn't seem too probable.

No, he hadn't heard from her. It had been almost a week since she had left. And yes, he did e-mail her a couple of days back to casually ask her how she was putting up in Monaco, but apparently she was too dazzled by all the splendour to reply back to him.

No, Dan wasn't bitter about it. He could perfectly understand how she was caught up in her whirlwind romance.

And he certainly did not miss watching movies with her.

Au contraire, he was glad that he didn't have to hear someone quibbling over his choice of apparels.

He really was.

So, on that lonely night, while he was vaguely wondering whether he should consider another viewing of The Apartment or not, you could excuse Dan for almost skipping a heartbeat in anticipation when he heard his cell phone ring.

After all, it could very well be Serena calling him up to update him on her vacation in California. (yeah, _definitely._)

Or it could be Nate, calling him up to inform him that he after all realized why Chuck belonged in rehab.

Except it wasn't.

The display clearly flashed 'Blair'.

Dan picked up the call.

"Humphrey?"

Yes, it was her. No other girl he knew Humphrey-d him.

"Waldorf," he said in a bland voice.

Waldorf sighed. "Humphrey, I'm sorry I couldn't reply to your mail, you know once arriving in Monaco I couldn't even keep track of time! I think I spent two days only touring The Prince's Palace of Monaco and Louis was so generous and patient, explaining the fine art collection, Dan…it was mesmerising! I couldn't-"

"Blair? It's okay." Dan didn't always find hearing about Louis and his family too fascinating. "But the palace must be striking if it has caught Blair Waldorf in awe."

"It is! I was captivated. Do you know they have on of Titian's own masterpieces in Louis's room? The loose brushwork had me absolutely enthralled -"

He didn't want to hear about Louis's room.

"Alright, Waldorf," Dan said, cutting her off. "You can send me the pictures by e-mail, you know. I'd rather judge then."

He could imagine her narrowing her eyes.

"Are you questioning my impeccable taste, Humphrey?"

"No, Blair, I'm just jealous that I'll never have my own Royal Wedding."

"Oh, I think Serena will have some say in that."

Dan sighed mentally.

"Anyway," Blair continued. "Tomorrow is Monday."

"Oh," Dan remembered.

"So…tomorrow we start with our e-mail correspondence with The Landlord. I had checked up on your queue and I think the next one should be Rhythm on the River."

Dan smiled. "Why, is the princess feeling lonely in the big castle already?"

"Shut up, Daniel. Louis has his errands to run and he is not always present here. And as for spending time with his mother…let's not go there."

"Yes, but I'm sure Monaco has many rare sightings."

"There are few I haven't seen already."

Dan grinned. "But you'd rather watch movies with me than saunter around alone in your kingdom?"

Silence.

Dan waited until Blair finally said, "Don't flatter yourself, Humphrey. Louis is here to accompany me. Although he is busy with the Council since yesterday, I'm positive he would make some time. Besides, I'm sure you're just as lonely in The Hamptons. Somehow I have trouble picturing you and Eric watching An Affair To Remember together."

Dan laughed. "Uh, yeah. Eric has found a new love interest so obviously I'm not being pampered and attended to by him as I expected. Even Nate betrayed me on his world expedition."

He heard Blair's light giggle through the phone. "All is not lost. You can still cut your days improving on your writing."

"Uh…" Dan replied, remembering Vanessa and how she had stolen his manuscript from his own loft. "Somehow I don't feel like doing that."

"Okay," Blair answered, sounding puzzled. "Just make sure you include the movies in your non-existent time-table, Humphrey. I'll be checking up!"

Dan chuckled. "Fine, Waldorf. I'll see if I can fit them in my tight schedule. I'm sure you won't have that problem though. You sound like you have all the time in your hands."

Blair huffed. "If you continue with this Humphrey, I'm not calling you up tomorrow."

Dan grinned, leaning against his desk. "Oh so you plan on calling me up _and _e-mailing me too? I had no idea the prince was so busy he's let his princess's attention wander to the pauper."

Blair made a high-pitched sound of disbelief and the next thing he knew, Dan Humphrey was being hanged up on.

Dan asked himself when he had learned how to flirt. He wondered if maybe that was a consequence of kissing a friend twice, both times not quite intentionally.

[{}] [{}] [{}]

They continued their discourse over the next week. Eric noticed Dan seeming less lethargic and bored, and assumed what was the reason. They opted for calls when e-mail didn't seem sufficient, and Dan was obliged to sign up for the cheapest international calling card. As for Blair, Louis was hardly around to notice anything at all.

He wondered consistently about Louis's absence. Blair always had a justification lined up for him whenever he ventured to ask her the same, all involving Louis's involvement in the Monaco Parliament. But it couldn't help but nag him that Blair didn't sound too aggravated that her fiancé didn't have time for her on their own vacation.

Dan very much doubted things would end up satisfactorily for Blair with Louis. It had gone a long way; much deeper than he had initially thought – it sort of disturbed him a great deal. He wanted Blair to be happy, but not _delusional. _ He had decided to play along though, before she realised how superficial the whole notion was herself. But this was Blair Waldorf, and Blair Waldorf was the princess of Denialville first than of anywhere else. She always needed a push.

He wondered how long it would take.

He shouldn't have underestimated, even for her standards.

They were well into their fifth subsequent movie when Dan raised up the issue.

"Blair, as much as I enjoy this arrangement …I think you should really spend your weekends going out with Louis. It would be…It would be good for your relationship."

'You know, to actually get to know each other and everything,' Dan added mentally.

Blair sighed. "Louis is…he's out. With his uncle. They have a meeting with the advisory council."

Dan raised his eyebrows. "How long has he been out?"

"Well…two days now."

"And he'll also be out on the weekends."

"It's not his fault, Humphrey! He told me how sorry he was for not being able to spend more time with me…but I guess I should have known how busy royal families can be."

"Ha, they are not training you to be a princess or something?"

"I'm rolling my eyes at that statement, Humphrey. This is not a Disney movie."

'How ironic,' Dan thought.

"I doubt Cinderella was required to be trained."

"Whatever! Princess Sophie does require me to know the basic ceremonies and everything, but-" Blair continued exasperatedly, "They don't take up too much of my time."

Dan sighed. "You're really not having much of a vacation, are you?"

"O-M-G, Humphrey, I shall not be pitied. The true love of my life invited me to spend time with his family. What more do I want?"

"Maybe…actually spending time with him?"

As soon as he said that, he knew he had crossed a line.

There was a long pause in which neither made any sound. Dan didn't want to wonder how she'd react.

"I made the right choice accepting his proposal," Blair replied, so quietly, he had to strain his ears to hear her.

"When did I say you didn't?"

"Louis loves me."

"I'm sure he does, Blair," Dan said softly. "But have you ever considered that maybe you need to know more about him? That maybe he needs to know more about you?"

"Louis loves me, Dan. Without any questions. I'm not _asking_ for anything else. And I'm really not consulting _you_ on my love life, Humphrey," she ended in an annoyed voice.

Dan blinked.

That _did_ hurt.

Sometimes he forgot about the many sides of Blair Waldorf, when he had lately been accustomed to only one. The ambivalence. The dissonance they were beginning to slowly dissolve for each other; and something warmer that was percolating instead.

Yes, sometimes he forgot how many sides Blair Waldorf had.

He straightened. "Fine then, Blair. I just thought I could say something as a friend."

He heard Blair hesitate. "Dan…"

"No, Blair, I understand. I'll talk to you later."

And he hung up on her this time.

[{}] [{}] [{}]

It was the month of June. Dan started to feel like perhaps he had rushed into things bringing Louis up so early. After all it had only been a week into their discourse. But he didn't regret saying it. While knowing that she was spending more time with him rather than with her fiancé when she was on a vacation with said fiancé and about 4000 miles away more than pleased him(although it was hard to admit), he certainly did not want to give Louis any reason to think ill of him.

Or, at the most, he didn't _really_ want to be the cause for the jeopardy of Blair and Louis's engagement.

OR, at the _very_ most, he wanted Blair to understand what she was getting into before she committed herself to it.

Yes, that.

But they hadn't talked in two days. He hadn't talked to her 'later'. He hadn't discussed the two movies he had watched. Eric was out with Felipe over the weekend so Dan was left alone again. Usually that wasn't a problem with him.

But his time something was really irking the back of his mind.

It was a minor tiff. And he had to fix it up soon or they'd continue _not_ watching movies together for the rest of the summer. But for a moment there he felt uncomfortable doing these movie dates (yes, he had started to call them that. He hadn't known what else to call them. After all it was literally true, he had justified to himself), knowing that she had an impending _marriage _with a royal prince.

He wanted her to open her eyes and see how real life worked. How real relationships worked.

But, no. She was too insecure for her own good.

On Monday again, she called him up.

"Hey, Waldorf," he sighed.

"Dan…I'm sorry," her voice came, very softly.

Dan just shook his head casually.

_The many parts of Blair Waldorf._

"I shouldn't have talked to you like that. I deserve you an apology," she continued.

Dan smiled. He had gotten over it. What he had not gotten over though was how she deluded herself into believing some things.

"It's okay, you know. I think I've gotten used to being bitten by Blair Waldorf."

"Don't talk like that. You know I'm really sorry," she sounded almost really miserable.

"I know. It's okay, I tell you. I think we both just need some fresh air. We have been closed up for too long."

"Yeah, the greenery might do you some good. Us both, actually."

He laughed at that.

It was better left unsaid for now, he thought. They had his Netflix queue to exhaust, after all.

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><p><strong>AN: I don't know much about the monarchy in Monaco; only stuff that I vaguely searched on the internet, so forgive me if you spot anything askew.**

**I thought this chapter was more of a premise; the next would pick up more, I hope. =)**

**Review, pretty please? I would really appreciate it. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thank you so much everyone who reviewed and put this story in their alerts/favourites. :) This is only my second fanfiction, so I wasn't expecting much, but you guys are legit awesome!**

**Also, thanks **_**Just another reviewer **_**for the heads up. Those were points that were bothering me too and I made the required changes in the previous chapter. The neighbour's name is now Felipe (I thought I had heard Gale being a Spanish name, but I guess I confused the spellings), Louis's mother is referred to as Princess Sophie (Sorry about that! It totally slipped my mind since I had skipped a lot in the last two episodes for obvious reasons), and the Royal House in Monaco is referred to as The Prince's Palace of Monaco. So again, thank you so much for clearing that up! And sorry for the confusion; trust it won't happen again. =]**

_**Also,**_** random, but I wanted to say – we use British English in my country. Although Gossip Girl is an American show, I'd continue with the British spellings if you don't mind? I hope it doesn't bother people who are not used to it.**

**Alright, without further ado, here's the second chapter!**

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><p><em>It's all up in the air, <em>

_And we stand still, _

_To see what comes down._

_I don't know where it is,_

_ I don't know when, _

_But I want you around – _

_When it falls into place, _

_With you and I, _

_We go from if to when – _

_Your side and mine are both behind its indication. _

_This is going to bring me clarity – _

_This'll take the heart right out of me –_

_~ She Is, The Fray_

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><p>|| <strong>Chapter Two<strong> ||

Over the next three weeks of entering July, Dan and Blair sustained the phone calls. Blair went ahead and visited the few places she had yet to visit in Monaco and accounted them back to Dan. Dan was mesmerised by how Blair could ridicule his fashion sense even when sitting about 4000 miles away ("The Minister's coat was more repulsive than the one you had on that day and I was sure I would never lay eyes on anything more hideous!"). One time she even gave him an audio tour of the palace ("_Just_," Blair began, in frustration. "Listen to what I have to say, Humphrey. You can introduce your arguments when I'm finished.").

That was one long conversation.

But as the summer went on, they discovered that they had watched about twenty movies together, discussed Gone with the Wind a hundred and twenty-seven times (Dan might be exaggerating thinking that), spent about two hundred and thirty minutes on the phone talking about the Bermuda triangle, Dan's strange fondness for his old typewriter (that was only one time. She had shushed him after a while when he had begun to recount every single memory associated with it, although he assured her that he didn't touch it anymore but only kept it preserved in the store) and arguing over Chuck Palahniuk.

Dan was once again reminded that it was achievable to both roll his eyes and laugh so frequently because of the same person.

"Blair, I think we are running out of things to talk about, so the only option you seem to resort to is insulting me," Dan said on an occasion, admonishingly.

Blair made a noise of incredulity. "Humphrey, you're used to it. Besides, we are not running out on things; there are tons of movies still in queue. I'm checking out the next one right now."

Dan sighed. "Really, Blair. Just because you are a princess now doesn't mean I won't protest to you slighting me at every opportunity."

"Don't be ridiculous, Humphrey," he heard mild amusement in her voice. He chuckled too. "I know you aren't too offended when I insult you," she said cheerily.

"What, me? Why would I do that? I like to hear that I'm appreciated, you know, Waldorf."

He meant it to come off as a casual comment. But by the time he finished, he knew it wasn't just a throw-away statement. It carried a quarter of his feelings too.

There was some silence on the other side. He was continually surprised by how he managed to shut Blair Waldorf up at times.

"You want to be appreciated, Humphrey?" Blair said in that voice that he knew had an edge of gentleness beneath that sarcastic exterior.

"Yeah, I don't think I'd mind it, Waldorf," he said carefully.

"I like how you think that The Scarlet Letter is overrated."

Dan grinned. "I've heard that one in another version before. You could do better than that."

He heard Blair sigh. "From whatever of your works you have shown me, I can say that I _like_ your writing style, and that my constructive criticism shouldn't have been that merciless."

He smiled and settled himself more comfortably. "That's better."

Blair continued grudgingly in a bland tone, "…Your taste in cabbage patch kids is not _terrible_."

Dan chuckled.

She continued, "_However_, red does _not_ look gratifying on Cedric; I rest my case."

Dan snorted and didn't say anything.

"I dislike your pathetic excuse for a loft excessively, Humphrey. Do you realise how much of a _desperate _need it is in for a _repaint_? And I swear I see papers lying _everywhere _around the loft! On the shelves, the couch, the _kitchen_-"

"There is nothing in the kitchen."

"Of_ course_ there is _nothing_ in the kitchen, but that's a different issue entirely -"

"Waldorf!"

"_Fine. _I like that you listen to Beethoven too."

"Uh-huh."

"I like how you have the potential to be a rabid schemer."

Dan laughed.

"I like how you get misty-eyed when watching The Ghost and Mrs. Muir," he could just _hear_ Blair's smirk.

"I do not," Dan whispered, affronted.

"You do _too_," Blair replied in a singsong voice.

"You're just saying that to cover up that _you_ don't weep your eyes out while watching it too."

"Shut up, Humphrey."

"Yeah, Waldorf. Continue now, will you? I'm not letting you off the hook."

"Humphrey, I just gave you an entire list!"

"That's all you can think of among my striking qualities, Blair? I'm wounded."

"You should consider yourself exceptional, Humphrey. Those are more positives than I can think of in an ordinary Brooklynite."

Dan sighed. "Whatever you say, Waldorf."

Blair paused. "Did I upset you, Humphrey?" she asked in an amused voice.

Dan remained quiet.

"Dan?" she said in a softer voice, traces of mockery disappearing.

He didn't answer. He didn't trust himself with this one.

There was a pregnant silence. Dan knew he should say something, but he just couldn't bring himself to.

He also didn't know what to say.

There were too many things unsaid between them. Maybe he should just bring it out in the open, he thought. They had formed such a practice of tiptoeing around each other. Although he had to undoubtedly acknowledge that there was an unconventional candidness between them since that first kiss…

Bair interrupted his thoughts and surprised him.

"I like how you can stand up to me even when I'm worse than a raging Gorgon," she said in a cynical voice.

Dan raised his eyebrows.

"I like…how someone could transport you to the Amazon jungles and you'd still be the calmest person imaginable."

He smiled. "Yeah, Waldorf? Go on."

"I like how-" Blair's voice softened_ just_ a notch. "You _assume_ that an ordinary _pizza _from a joint in Brooklyn and a Katherine Hepburn movie can level out my mood." She paused. "Although, of course, this being set up in the loft wasn't exactly a _plus_...but…I guess it's safe to say that I have never done that with anyone else," she finished, her voice losing all sharpness towards the end.

Dan shook his head instinctively. He realised the weight of those words. If he was thinking one minute ago that he didn't know what to say…right now it was he was finding it hard to shape a consistent thought.

He guessed that was what happened when someone took a leap of faith in your regard.

And between them, this conversation characterised a leap of faith.

"I hope I'm not talking to myself here, Humphrey?" he heard Blair say with a feeble, oddly exposed laugh.

He elicited one of his own and shook his head in disbelief. "No. No…Blair, I, uh…thanks."

"Oh well. I deliver eulogies on a customary basis _anyway_."

Dan smiled. And he felt a sharp twinge of guilt for writing what he did all those years ago about her.

"You know …I think you're right. I should repaint those walls. At least of the living room."

"About _time_, Humphrey," she replied mockingly.

Dan chuckled.

"Yeah, and Blair," he continued, because he was sure she expected him to continue. "I like how…strangely, you have the best taste in pizza in all of the Upper East Side."

He heard a pause. He heard her rare laugh and then at length say the three words in resonating approval, "Thank you, Humphrey."

[{}] [{}] [{}]

Although Eric did not believe that a long-distance relationship with Felipe was not something he was readily willing to work out in the near future; he wanted to try and give a shot at it – particularly since they had grown such a partiality for each other in less than two months.

Eric, however, also felt decidedly apologetic for not hanging out with his roomie more than he should have been. He tried dividing his time between them – he visited the public library with Dan a couple of times even though it didn't particularly fascinate him - and going out to diners with him, and having video conferencing with Rufus and Eric's mom at least twice a week together.

Despite that, Eric was relieved to notice a change in Dan's attitude the times he was around.

"Hey, I'm sorry I couldn't be around earlier today," Eric called out from the kitchen while Dan set the table one night.

"No problem," Dan called back breezily.

"I would have called you over to Felipe's _too_ but I wasn't sure you'd like it over that Zoe Heller book I saw lying around the living."

"No, no…I'm sure I would have been the avoidable third wheel anyway. And I find I don't really like that much these days."

Eric changed the subject casually. "I called up Serena today. Although she didn't sound like she had much time to spare. Seems like the director won't loosen his leash on her."

Dan laughed at that. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure she'll find some way to do just that. I can't imagine Serena tied up with work." Dan paused. "But uh..yeah - I'm glad she got a break. After the whole Lily and Ben thing."

"Yep...oh, I forgot to ask. How's your discourse with Blair coming along?"

Dan finished arranging and leaned against the table, one hand on his hip. "Yeah. Just, uh…been spending too much of talk time. Sometimes bad signals make us resort to IM."

"Yes? What do you guys even do? Watch movies all the time?"

Dan grinned. "Not just."

Eric glanced back at him, having turned away before. "Then…what else do you two do over the phone?" he enquired in an amused tone but sent Dan the most suspicious look he could muster.

Dan stared at him, realising that Eric was reading too much into things. A little _TOO_ much.

He looked back at him with alarmed eyes and straightened hurriedly. "What? No, no, no, no…no. Just um, discuss movies and literature and Cedric."

"Cedric," Eric stated, raised his eyebrows.

"Yes…she has a cabbage patch kid of her own too," Dan grinned.

Eric paused. "Does it have a name too? Is it French?"

Dan gave him a look.

Eric shook his head. "Well…I'm guessing you think she stills smells nice."

Dan shrugged. "The French air might have altered some things."

"Yeah, but apparently it didn't alter your friendship."

Dan didn't reply.

"And it's getting stronger by the looks of it…" Eric continued carefully. "You spend the major part of your day taking to her when you both are about 5000 miles away. Are you sure where you're going with this?"

"4000. And no, I mean, uh…we're just friends, that's all."

Eric shook his head in disbelief and carried over the takeaway to the dinner table. "You _know_ that's not true. I'm not sure I know what to make of you two. I only hope you two have some serious conversation when she gets back."

Dan scratched the back of his head and settled down in his seat.

"I think we already have serious conversation. But uh...yeah, you're right. But she's marrying the prince guy," Dan finished with an incredulous expression.

Eric laughed. "You really think that'll last?"

"Frankly…no. But the woman likes her fairytales."

Eric shook his head exasperatedly.

"Yeah I know," Dan continued. "But enough with the twenty questions about me; how are things between you and Felipe?"

Eric smiled at Dan and answered him thus.

[{}] [{}] [{}]

"I want you to look over the list with me."

"The list?"

"The guest list."

Dan stared at his copy of _Details_.

"Blair. No," he said without hesitation.

"Humphrey!" Blair exclaimed after a pause, appalled.

"No, no…don't involve me in this. Royalty doesn't suit me."

"Helping me with the list won't make you the next Prince Harry, Humphrey! Besides, you are out of work anyway, so you should grab onto every opportunity I offer you! Don't you see what that might do to your r_ésumé_?"

"I have honourable grounds to flout your orders, Your Serene Highness," Dan started. "I'm reviewing an article right now."

"But I thought you weren't feeling like writing anything!" she complained.

"I'm trying to push that to the back of my mind," he retorted, extra-defensively. He was reminded of that manuscript again and he did _not _want to reflect on that dilemma right now.

Blair paused at Dan's edgy tone. "Wow. Humphrey. PMS much? Is that why you don't feel like writing?" she deadpanned.

"Haha, Blair."

"_Anyway_," she continued sardonically. "I would have suggested you ways to conquer your PMS but I am pressed for time. Help me with the list; you can review that article later."

"How come you are always coming to me for help these days? And I'm hardly a suitable candidate anyway. You should call up one of your many bridesmaids if you have nobody at the palace with the patience for it."

"Well, you worked at W, didn't you? You weren't supposed to be a _suitable candidate_ for that either. And I'm only asking you to look into the Upper East Side guests, Humphrey. Of course, you're no wiz in _that_, but you are an outside member of the Van der Woodsen family after all. On those standards you are au fait with them. I would have asked Nate, but I can't track him when he is globetrotting with his best friend and keeping it such a clandestine affair! And Serena is possibly even busier than me. Besides, only last night she was talking so enthusiastically about No. 187."

"No. 187?" Dan asked, puzzled. "And I didn't mean Nate when I said bridesmaid."

"I _don't_ think you'd want to know the clarification to that, Humphrey," Blair sighed. "My point _being_– _you_ are helping me with the list. And FYI, if you hope to meet Charlotte, you better _do_ what I ask now because she's not going to sashay up to you at the wedding like in your dreams."

"Oh God, Waldorf. Fine. Bring it on," Dan gave up and pushed the magazine aside.

Blair paused again. "You really have a crush on her, don't you?"

"I'm allowed to have crushes, Waldorf."

"Yes, I've seen how that turned out in the past," he could vision Blair rolling her eyes exaggeratedly. "But hush now, Humphrey. Let's begin."

"I wasn't even saying much. You were the one blathering on."

Blair sighed exasperatedly. "Let's just _focus_, Dan! I'm dictating the list and _you_ follow on and enlighten me if you have any objections or not. The first family I have listed here…"

And they spent the next three hours in their respective countries doing just that, at the end of which Dan felt so drowsy that he hit the bed as soon as Blair ended the call, even though it was only 7 pm in his country, and explicated to himself that he only accepted to help her because he wanted to erase the guilt that was heaving down on him slowly since the day he admitted to himself one of his worst assumptions – that Vanessa only stole his manuscript for a reason – she thought that she'd be doing him an immense favour by publishing it.

And that thought filled him with dread.

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><p><strong>(Sorry, annoying Author's Note again): I think there was a lot of DanBlair in this one. Of course, it shouldn't be a low point since this **_**is**_** a Dan/Blair fic, but in terms of plot…I'm trying to make it slow, ergo, it would probably develop more and more chapter per chapter. **

**Tell me what you thought of the chapter, please! Reviews keep me going and I'll forever be your fan if you do.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Hi there, sorry for not updating sooner. I've been so ridiculously busy with my life lately; it's been pretty frantic. However, I'm kind of free till June 19 which is kind of a distant date and even afterwards, so I'm expecting to write and update more till then. I'm not promising anything though because I'm prone to continual procrastination. But I'll try my best. c:**  
><strong>Anyway, the third chapter, y'all. =)<strong>

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><p><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> Does not own Gossip Girl. Just a common viewer who still considers the show redeemable.

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><p>Tonight there isn't any light under your door.<br>I guess you must be somewhere breathing.  
>In patterns unfamiliar to the one you're underneath -<br>I pinned those patterns in my coat.

- Patterns of Fairytales, The National

[{}][{}][{}]

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><p>|- <strong>Chapter Three<strong> -|

Dan was trying to 'Bing' Vanessa Abrahams due to personal apprehensions on his laptop (he didn't even know which college she had moved to) when he heard his phone ring.

"Humphrey!" he heard Blair's spirited greeting.

"Good Morning to you too."

"Still enjoying liberation benefits on vacation?"

"I was doing a…research."

"Research," Blair repeated dubiously. "Why? Trying to find ways to recover your writer's block? I'll tell you. You should be doing something more inspiring than the laundry and making gigantic amounts of coffee. And _researching_. Internet counselling is over-rated."

"Oh, haha. I'll have you know that I'm writing an article for a local newspaper. And there's a great history museum in The Hamptons that I visited today. Not to forget the public library that I'm a member of."

He heard a pause. "Why, I had no idea you have been so busy lately, Humphrey. What a new experience that must be for you!" she replied back after a few moments.

Dan chuckled. "In fact, I'm not half as alone as you think I am. I even joined this book club."

"Who _took_ you into their book club?" she accentuated.

"Funny, Waldorf. I met this girl, Cynthia, in the library. She took me in."

Pause.

"Did she?" Blair asked, her voice masking with faint unconcern.

"Yes. She's a writer too, you know. Published some work in some local magazines in her hometown. Said she flew down to The Hamptons for a vacation."

"The Hamptons isn't exactly famous for its literary escapades, you know."

"Ha."

"So she doesn't live in NYC then," her voice picked up.

"No, she doesn't. She lives in Dallas."

Dan paused, sensing something.

"But…would you believe it; she invited me over for lunch tomorrow. She's living with one of her friends," he continued.

"Lunch?" Blair's voice sharpened considerably. "I thought we were viewing Mildred Pierce tomorrow afternoon. Or at least _your_ afternoon."

"Oh, yeah. About that," Dan bit his lip. "Why don't we postpone it to Tuesday, Blair? I thought we'd have to anyway since you'd be busy with the shopping," Dan finished, waiting for her reaction.

"But I'm not!" Blair exclaimed. "Not in the evening, anyway. Tomorrow Louis's mother would be attending some exclusive Garden Party and she doesn't expect me to go forward with the shopping without her company! How can you cancel my plans, Humphrey without even _asking_ me? Especially for this Cynthia plebeian," Blair finished with a tenor of censure.

"You won't be busy?" Dan asked, innocently. "I'm sorry, I was under that impression so I thought what was the harm in getting more acquainted with a commoner instead," he finished sardonically.

"Well, I'm not," Blair replied, irritation seeping into her voice. "So you can scrap whatever change of plans you had."

Dan smirked at her answer.

"All you had to do was ask."

[{}][{}][{}]

Dan hadn't heard from Blair since three days after the movie night. Usually Blair was the one who scheduled their calls because it was settled that _she_ was the busy one who had to prepare a Royal Wedding; while Dan was the one who cut his days sitting in the library, watching movies, strolling aimlessly in some state park and feeding ducks.

He highlighted, though, that his situation was not that abject. It only paled in contrast.

That didn't, however, mean that Dan _wanted_ to be the one preparing the Royal Wedding.

So he didn't call her up, thinking that these days marked the beginning of the royal preparations. Also because he didn't want to appear too hooked.

So he fixed a schedule for the dinner with Cynthia and roomie, Margaret, the following day, and invited Eric too (Margaret seemed immediately taken with Eric before he could clarify that Eric was only there with them because he didn't have a date with his boyfriend that night). He ended up enjoying the evening – homemade food was a much welcome alternative from Eric and his usual take-outs and diners – and discovered that Cynthia had much in common with him; she was also raised by a single parent and had a younger sister who was too unlike her.

In some ways Cynthia reminded Dan of Vanessa.

He dismissed that thought immediately.

On the third night, Dan was interrupted from a newspaper crossword contest he was having with Eric. They had bought two copies of the newspaper. No, he didn't consider that too _geeky_.

He checked his phone. It was Blair.

Dan looked up at Eric apologetically, who smiled casually and waved him to take the call, then got up to fetch the popcorn from the microwave.

Dan walked outside to the porch and picked up the call, grinning.

"What, my dear Lady Disdain! Are you yet living?" he leaned against the fence.

"In fact, Seignior Daniel, I'm just prepared to drop dead!"

Dan laughed. He had missed that tone. "Been too busy?"

"Yes, I…" Blair replied, her tone laced with fatigue. "Things have not been too easy."

Dan sobered a bit. "You sound really tired."

"Well, I…I just had as row with Princess Sophie. That has got to be exhausting after _all_," she finished sarcastically.

"What happened?" he asked softly.

Blair sighed in frustration. "Well, she didn't approve of me snubbing the US ambassador to Monaco. Which I didn't' even _do_, Humphrey! I was bored stiff at a political fundraiser event we went to and she doesn't forgive me for leaving her side to fetch a drink? I realise my royal responsibilities, but she expects me to stick by her all the _time_. I fail to comprehend how she even came to the conclusion that I was _rebuffing_ Mr. Rivkin when I had greeted him just moments inside when he had made his entry!"

Dan rubbed his forehead. He was _bad_ at royal matters. Plus, Princess Sophie hadn't stricken to him as someone who had the most heart-warming disposition.

"Well, you have to win some, lose some, Blair. She is your future in-law. You are expected to make a good princess."

"I can't even argue with her!" Blair went on without paying attention. "She's like a silent tribal leader, Dan. Miss one step and she'll launch the feeding frenzy on you!"

Dan chuckled. "You have Louis though, don't you? I don't think Princess Sophie would practise her fiery castigations on you when he's around to check on her."

Blair drew a breath. "Louis _had_ returned when we drove back to the palace. He tried to sooth her, but it didn't serve any other purpose than to vent her spleen even _more_. Besides, he seemed awfully tired anyway. Watching his mother's wrath in bloom couldn't exactly rejuvenate him," she sighed, her voice softening. "She won't ever spare me, Humphrey."

"Well, I hope Louis doesn't have any more errands to run that require him to stay away," Dan replied with a pang of discomfort.

"He's here over the weekend," heard Blair's voice change into delight again. "He might be called again but he promised me he'd take me out on dates between the wedding shopping trips," she finished, exhaling contentedly.

Dan sighed. "Yeah. This is the part where you call up one of your girlfriends to squeal and gush about a potential romance, Waldorf," he paused. "Or in this instance, a fiancé. I speak from a brother's experience."

Blair sobered. "Ugh, Dan. Such a spoil-sport. I hope you don't miss it too much, but we'll only be watching Faces on Monday night."

"Are you sure you want to watch that movie after your blissful jaunt with Louis? John Cassavetes is depressing. This movie is a very puzzling account about human emotions and cheating spouses – "

"Well," Blair interrupted in a suspiciously heightened tone hurriedly. "We'll watch something else then. Something light. Happy. Easy."

Dan frowned. "Okay. I'll decide then."

"You better do," she sounded awry. Distracted. Almost imperceptibly flustered. "Meanwhile," she continued, her voice regaining vigour. "I'll be having the time of my life."

"And I'll be spending my time playing scrabble?"

"Indoor activities suit you, Dan. And _now_, if your literary adventures haven't obliterated your mathematical skills, you must conceive that it's past two-thirty a.m. this side of the globe. Toodles. I'll be ringing up after three days."

"'Night, Waldorf. Have fun," he replied blandly and ended the call.

Dan wandered back to the living, where he saw Eric chewing the popcorn and psychoanalysing the crossword.

"You're cheating on your share of time, you know."

Eric looked up, offering the popcorn. "I've been stuck on no. 9 since forever."

"That Egyptian God one? Took me a long time too," Dan hopped back onto the opposite couch ad settled himself among the cushions, picking up his copy of the newspaper. "I can't figure out no.7 and 13."

Eric shrugged, staring at the crossword. "I'll be having bad dreams about pharaohs and sphinxes tonight."

Dan glanced at Eric, distracted. "Do you have any idea what happened between Chuck and Blair after that Russell thing?"

Eric turned his head. "Why, what happened?"

Dan stared. "Just a thought," He looked down at no. 13.

"Everything is so complicated between them, nobody actually knows," Eric replied. "Although, Nate and Serena might know something."

"No…" Dan answered pensively, looking intently at the crossword. "No. Just inquiring; I don't want to get involved or anything. She's getting married anyway."

Eric looked at him. "Are you sure? You could talk to them if you want."

"No," Dan glanced back at Eric. "I was just curious. No big deal." He exhaled, flinging his newspaper and standing up. "Uh, well…" he said, stretching. "I think we should get some sleep. I was planning on embarking on a cycling odyssey tomorrow early morning."

Eric raised his eyebrows in surprise, despite his ministrations of checking for the odd signs in Dan's behaviour. "Cycling?" he asked, smiling.

"I thought I wouldn't get the chance in Brooklyn," Dan stated simply, grinning.s

"Well," Eric retorted. Throwing his paper beside Dan's. "I hope it doesn't go down as bad as that golfing crash course."

"Ah," Dan replied with a frown, turning back as he walked to his room. "Don't remind me of that."

[{}][{}][{}]

He felt himself opening his eyes. Addled, he started to roll over semiconsciously when it all dawned to him in bits and pieces.

He stopped mid-motion for a few seconds, then exhaled and lay on his back, running a hand through his hair.

That was how Dan Humphrey woke up after a dream. He rarely got nightmares, and his dreams were always a cumulative bunch of unfettered figments of his imagination. They felt highly incredulous and while the dreams circled out to him a grasp about his deeper emotions that they wanted him to acknowledge; he had gotten so used to it that the unseemly events didn't rattle him anymore.

He heard light tapping. He raised his head from his pillow and gathered that it was drizzling outside in the dark from the French window across his bed. After 3, he guessed, as he lay wide awake.

He was feeling like a part of his brain was at standstill while another was running thoughts at nanoseconds. Yet another part was employing tactics to sway his drowsiness - counting sheep and pondering about his dad's yellow gym shows he always made fun of.

He stared at the ceiling.

They reminded him of bunny slippers – those shoes. His father wasn't a fan of gyms but Jenny used to force him quite often to go to the one nearby the loft when they lived together. And his father being Rufus Humphrey, frequently liked to bash social conventions by wearing those yellow shows. Jenny was forever trying to get rid of those. But his dad kept them well-hidden and out of reach of his fashion designer daughter. Probably behind some secret door.

His dad was such a resistor. But even _Dan_ had that much fashion sense.

He broke his train of thought.

He was thinking about bunnies and sheep and BLAIR.

Not in that order.

He had to admit; it _did_ rattle him quite a bit. He normally didn't dream about _past_ events. Not this vividly.

But he had, this time. He didn't know what to make of it.

He had, to a certain degree, pushed it to a corner of his mind some time back. He tried not to revisit that corner.

But sometimes that arrangement didn't exactly work in his favour. Like this time. In which direction was his reason pointing now?

Signals. He liked to think of them as mishmash epiphanies.

He digressed, however. He wasn't _as_ liable to denial as some other people he knew.

He thought back to it. _Felt_ back, rather. When dreams are vivid, he had accepted, you lose yourself in them to a degree where you can sense every co-relation, every passing emotion, every nudge. He _could_ feel the nudge in that dream. The falter of his footstep as he had collided into her. The course energy that had begun flowing through him soundlessly. The slightest of brushes against skin; the smashing into each other; the silent backdrop that told them that something was _very, very_ misplaced.

But it was only a social experiment, after all. So they had taken their time testing it.

But the next moment he had known, he was standing all alone and Blair Waldorf had turned and was stalking hastily in the direction of her room.

He had stood in the foyer for a little less than five minutes with a clouded mind. But that energy hadn't exactly left him…it _did_, _somewhat_, a week later.

Then his dream veered from its vantage point to a future scenario – he was in the middle of his customary walk back to the loft from the subway, returning back to NYU and he heard his message beep and there it was splashed over UES's raison d'etre – The Insider and it all pointed back to The Lonely Boy slash Brooklyn slash the once-outsider slash _him_.

He felt ridiculous about all his ordeals sometimes.

And now his unconscious mind was playing tricks on him.

Dan heard the light, rustling tap of the rain against the window again and removed the duvet, breaking his torrent of reflections.

Bunnies weren't helping his cause. Coffee would.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Anon review replies:**

**chiara**: Thanks for that; yeah I had to point out that change somewhere. :) Thank you for reviewing!

**MFKfisher**: Thank you. Glad you appreciated that scene. (:

**Just another reviewer**: Haha, yeah. I have to research frequently because I'm not quite familiar with it all and I want to avoid getting it wrong. =P Thank you! I don't want to rush into things either. But not quite delay it also. Yeah, I know! We'd miss out some interesting things over the summer break this time, lol.

-  
><strong>Thanks for reading. <em>Review<em>, please.**


	4. Chapter 4

_Last call for everything,_

_A pool of emmalines delirious._

_She lingers like a chain,_

_It's more than grave but not too serious._

_Send in your reverie to me, faker_

_Into the mouth of green morning._

- Faker, Miike Snow

[{}][{}][{}]

* * *

><p><strong>|-Chapter Four-|<strong>

It was August. Dan was in The Hamptons Public Library.

_Sylvester _by _Georgette Heyer_. That was the book he had picked. He had read it a few years back.

"Georgette Heyer? Any special reason?"

He looked up to see green eyes looking at him inquiringly.

"Well," he told Cynthia. "This book sort of represents my life right now."

Cynthia smiled lopsidedly and glimpsed at the cover. "An ugly duckling who has run away from her house because she does not want to get married but instead write novels? Something like that happening in your life?"

She didn't have much of the accent.

"Eh…not exactly. But - said duckling wrote a novel that featured the people around her not in the best of light. _That_, definitely."

She laughed. "You're kidding, right?"

"No," Dan nodded ironically.

Cynthia stared at him.

Dan straightened in his chair. It wouldn't hurt to confide in someone who didn't even know who he was talking about. "I wrote something over the years– and it was kind of a satire you know. And my friends are involved in it. And I just…I just feel like a rogue. I mean, it's just," Dan exhaled. "They are going to know about it. Soon enough." He paused. "I feel like I don't even want to go back. I can live here all alone without end."

"How are they going to know about it?" her eyebrows furrowed.

He sighed. "Complicated. It's going to get published," he ran a hand through his hair. "I don't have it anymore. My ex-best friend stole it from me."

"Well…" Cynthia began after some silence, raising her hands. "I can see thatNew York Cityis very exciting."

Dan chuckled dismissively.

"But," she continued. "Hey, if what you're saying is actually true…which I'm having a hard time believing, by the way…I'm sure you won't be all alone. People will come around, if they realise that beneath all that…you care for them."

He looked at her cynically. "It's not as easy as _that_, trust me. I'm wishing my life was like this novel," he said, picking up the hardcover. "And despite everything I could end up seeing my enemy turned helper declare their love for me out of nowhere and then live happily ever after or something."

Cynthia chuckled. "Bit too much, don't ya think? But, Dan…believe me. If this best friend of yours….or okay, ex-best friend, found something worth publishing in that work, I'm sure she did it for your own good."

"Yes, but – she's not exactly been in my good graces lately. She's delusional. She thinks publishing it can repair our friendship. She's done all sorts of things to screw things up with me and I feel like this was the final straw – I don't want _this_ out in the _open_," Dan explained. "I already feel so exposed. I don't want to break that trust I've culminated over the years with…everyone. It would hurt people I never would have wanted to hurt."

"Well…you yourself must have been hurt by them before, haven't you? At some point everyone gets hurt by the closest of people," she shrugged. "And you say you wrote a _satire_ on them. _And_ they live in theUpper East Side. I'm sure they are don't have the most ethical values, if you don't mind me saying that."

"Yeah, I know," he looked up. "It's not, obviously. But above all…we're friends." He broke off. "I definitely did not need this new complication," he finished in a light-hearted voice, shaking his head.

Cynthia got up, smiling. "Don't worry! I'm sure not everyone would hate it. And you wrote it for a reason, didn't you? If you have some considerate people in your life, I'm sure they would support you," she patted him on the back and went on her way. "Seeya, Daniel."

"Yeah," he replied, turning back, still sitting.

He thought about it. Maybe Vanessa did see something worth publishing – but obviously, she didn't care about his emotions or whatever social life he had, and obviously, she had a hard time letting go of the concept of privacy encroachment - and maybe, _maybe_, a part of him would have wanted to publish something he had been working on so hard and since so long…

But he would have preferred to do that on his _own_ terms, he thought mordantly.

Or maybe he couldn't have ever gathered up the courage.

He sighed. He liked to think that he wasn't a coward though.

So, if he wasn't a coward, why did he fear this so much?

He didn't _have_ to. He wrote this, after all. He didn't have to be ashamed of it, because it was…true. It was his point of view. His opinion.

But he also did not want to be the villain here. He was the observer. He was the one people could trust.

Dan sighed. He had thought he was over wanting to 'get inside'.

He sighed. Another scandal. Maybe he should write a satire on himself and then publish it and things would cancel out.

This was even taking toll on his sense of humour.

He braced himself, however. It was going to be pretty difficult, yes – he was waiting for his personal impending calamity- but there were the brighter facets, too.

Such as – one of his works was finally getting published.

Second – he might get enough money to renovate the loft.

_Third_ - she might be one of the few who would actually like it. Especially everything he wrote last year. And at least till the last few pages.

Then she might stop talking to him because he hadn't exactly stopped writing after that kiss.

Or maybe even before. Especially since she claimed that he did not affect her in a certain way.

And because she was getting married, for God's sake.

Crushes could give you a strange imagination. He didn't exactly expect her to come running into his arms reading that page and make some sarcastic remark about how she had never expected that from him (although her eyes would tell him something different entirely), did he?

Maybe he did.

He was skimming through too many Georgette Heyer's, he thought alarmingly.

He had to stop thinking thoughts like that permanently. It was getting borderline lame.

And why was he getting that giddy feeling thinking that scenario? Things weren't looking up in his life, obviously.

This wasn't going away as he had hoped.

He couldn't keep on carrying a torch for somebody. Not again.

He had to do something. Something. He had to have some control in his life.

Serena, Georgina, Charlie, Vanessa….he was so _sick_ of people having control over his life.

And he definitely did not want to watch her getting married. Especially to some prince she talked less than a quarter times than she had been talking to Dan himself.

He just had to give Blair a nudge, a push. A something.

He had done that in the past, hadn't he? He had a knack for doing that.

Dan realised he was staring at a bookshelf and got up.

Maybe everything wasn't that doomed.

[{}][{}][{}]

"Blair," he began the next day he was talking to her. "Would we still be watching movies when you're married?"

That _definitely_ caught her off-guard.

"Wh-what?"

"Would we? I'm just curious. I mean…the situation's kind of similar now."

She didn't reply.

Somehow he thought she'd miss doing that.

"I would…" he continued in softer tones. "I would miss it."

There was a prolonged silence.

"I think…" she finally said. "I could spare some time for you, Humphrey. When I get tired of princess duties. Wouldn't want you getting too lonely."

"Oh, won't you?" Dan grinned.

"No. Might mar your reputation."

"How should that not fortify my reputation even more?"

"Hmm. Getting a cold-shoulder from a princess is not really acceptable, you know."

"And since when do you care about my reputation?"

"Since we…started to hang out. That parameter conjoins your reputation with mine."

It was Blair Waldorf's language for saying that he occupied an appreciable part of his life.

"Yeah?" He changed the subject. "So…how have things been coming along with the shopping?"

Her voice grew somewhat exasperated.

"I've been shopping the whole nine yards. I keep running in every direction with the coordinator in tow and for all her breeding, she doesn't know that the Debussy is teal while William Walton is white, hence obviously Walton should be the pick!"

"_What_?" Dan asked incredulously.

"I have mild synesthesia, Humphrey. I know what I'm talking about, don't worry your pretty little head," Blair singsang and then sighed tiredly. "It's all too much work; I'm surprised I'm even having this conversation right now because I'm ready to drop dead with sleep. I wish Serena was here. She is supposed to help me out with this botched situation!"

Dan forced himself a chuckle.

"Louis doesn't help you out?"

"Louis is not _supposed_ to look into my department, that goes without saying! Besides, he is too busy in his political dealings. And while he _does_ occasionally look into the wedding list, it's acceptable why he doesn't have much time for it on his hands. The government here in Monaco is having an internal synergy dispute."

Dan shook his head. "Exactly how busy is he?"

He didn't feel comfortable approaching this subject given the last time it had ended for them, but he had to know.

Blair huffed. "If you want to know, a lot. But it's not a big _deal_."

Dan sighed. "Blair. It's not too late, you know," he finished, dreading her reply.

"Dan," she mimicked. "It doesn't _have_ to be late for anything."

"Waldorf. Look…" Dan ran fidgeted in his seat in exasperation. He had to say it. It was the middle of August already.

She couldn't possibly follow through with this.

But who was he fooling. Of _course_ she could.

And then it would be too late to go back over her own steps.

"Look. I-I'm not sure how to approach you with this, but…let's begin with a simple issue. How much do you know Louis?"

Blair's voice took a sombre quality. "We're not talking about that again, Dan."

Dan sighed exasperatedly. "_Fine_. I'm going to say something very important to you and you're going to _listen_ to me through this, alright?" He took a breath and began, without waiting for any interruption. "Sometimes, Waldorf, people are given too many choices. And they opt for the easy one. It might make them feel safe or…they might find themselves running back to it no matter how many times it makes them question themselves, but then…then comes a point where they _have_ to understand what's right for them. Sometimes…you have to learn when to _quit_, Blair. And quitting is not always failing."

He had come to recognise these moments. It was one of those moments in which they both knew that they related on a poignant level – that for all respective indispensable ties, they both could feel parallel emotions.

There was some silence as she absorbed his words.

"Humphrey…" she at length replied, her voice was not above a whisper.

"I'm not expecting answers, Blair. I just want you to think about it, alright?"

Later he felt impolite for hanging up so abruptly.

[{}][{}][{}]

Dan was going through his e-mails. He had one from Nate, inquiring how he was doing (the correct words were something along the lines of 'g'day mate' which made him conjecture that him and Chuck were down under that time), that they missed everyone (except Chuck couldn't miss 'Brooklyn') and that they talked to Serena frequently. He went on to enlighten him on the movie Serena was doing and the director and her co-stars, which Dan, surprisingly, found himself skipping through somewhat.

He had another from Lily – again updating him on Serena for the larger part after enquiring about him and Eric and when exactly Eric was supposed to leave for Sarah Lawrence.

Then there were the customary mails by Jenny – he had lost track of their conversations entirely; they jumped repeatedly on to the most irrelevant subjects.

He clicked on his spam box languidly and found one more.

It was Vanessa.

Of course.

This was better than juvenilely sending her hate e-mails, he thought. He should have known that she would have contacted him sooner or later anyway.

He clicked on it. No subject.

He started reading.

"Dan,

I know you don't really want to hear from me-"

_Typical_, he restrained a small urge to roll his eyes immaturely.

"- but I have to inform you something concerning that manuscript. I sent it to a publishing company. I talked to the editor and he's going to release it around October. I asked him to publish it anonymously.

"I know you don't support me doing this, but I hope you will come out and claim it; because you truly _deserve_ that accomplishment. I also know you don't want to face everyone's reactions to it, but I hope you know I did it only for your own good. I know it won't be easy…but you couldn't have let such a masterpiece go to waste."

"So you took it in your own hands," Dan said aloud and then felt stupid about it. "Literally."

He scanned further through the mail, which consisted of her giving him best wishes and hoping they could talk again someday.

He didn't know. He had come to terms with facing the consequences of The Insider being published, but he wasn't entirely prepared. You could prepare the best you could for an impending catastrophe, but it would never not scare you, knowing you can do nothing much to deviate it. The only option available to you was to face it.

He couldn't really imagine being chummy with Vanessa again; not at least before ten years down the line. Maybe then the nostalgia would kick in.

He doubted that, though, he thought. He had enough on his plate to be bitter about.

[{}][{}][{}]

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Sarah:** Glad that you do. :) I hope you enjoy the future chapters too. Thank you for reviewing.

**tn09: **Well…if you felt that way, then I'm a bad writer. But idk, I thought I put it in a very subdued context. It was only meant to be a little insight. I realise the last chapter should have had more things going on in it, but it was kind of a filler, I think. Thanks for reading anyway.

**Just Another Reviewer: **Oh. Oops. I meant to write theUS's ambassador toFrance. I edited that. And no problem! You can be my pseudo-beta. ;) Glad that you liked it. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: I'm gonna start with saying sorry for the late update, again. I had a bit of a writer's block and I am caught up in deciding for a course for college and that takes up a lot of my time, sadly.**

**Anyway, a little change of pov here. :) Enjoy reading.**

* * *

><p><em>The light's still in our eyes, we're leaving this whole fairground behind, it's a dream that's going cold<br>_

_The circus never dies, the act forever haunts these skies, I know we cannot stay  
><em>

_This place used to gleam, I see it in my hopeful dreams, now I have to get away  
><em>

_We move towards the stars, and all that we touch becomes ours, let's keep warm till it's day.  
><em>

- Farewell to the Fairground, White Lies

[{}][{}][{}]

* * *

><p><strong>|-Chapter Five-|<strong>

Blair was in her room, back from shopping, the proof of which was strewn all across said room. She ran her eyes intently across the room for her slippers. No luck.

Stalking over to the oriel windows (and on the way almost skipping over a pile of shopping bags. This couldn't _possibly_ be her room) she drew the curtains, letting the daybreak in.

Blair gazed outside for a while. She fidgeted a bit and turned and strolled back to the bed and lied on it.

There was no real definition to this; she was at crossroads and fatigue was coursing through her and she didn't have the will to go over dozens and dozens of brochures again.

So she just lied in bed, stared up at the ceiling and wondered when she had lost interest in doing the work in her hands. In shopping. In planning.

Especially a wedding. Her own.

She wanted to go back to UES. Meet Serena. Talk to her. See Nate. Order Nelly or Penelope around.

She remembered she had to go downstairs in an hour. Princess Sophie would be waiting for dinner.

Louis was back but he had a private dinner with a government counselor. Again.

Princess Sophie.

Just thinking of her gave Blair a headache. She rolled her eyes lethargically.

She had to get up. She had to stop making such a wimp out of herself. Only three months were left. She couldn't afford to waste any more time. She had so much to look after. She -

She was so alone in this.

She could swear her moods changed like Dorota's favourite TV shows.

She missed her.

She felt ridiculous. She only wanted to lie aimlessly in bed and go to sleep.

She had had a call from her mother about an hour ago.

To tell her that she was about to become a sister.

A baby. As if she hadn't enough to think about already.

Her mind had gone on overload and she was in the middle of Cercle-d'Or, so she had just stood there, and silently freaked out since she couldn't do much movement because her hands were full with packages and pamphlets - and because she was standing among Monte Carlo's most sophisticated couturiers - while her mother kept on going about how she didn't want to tell her earlier because she didn't want to disturb her with the wedding preparations and that she was three months due already.

Well, impeccable timing.

Sometimes she felt like her life also went on in an alternate universe too.

A sibling. She couldn't believe it.

She always had had an instinctual need to nurture somebody under her supervision - so she didn't know if she should be enthralled or disappointed that she wouldn't be there in New York to do that.

She wanted a baby sister. She had _zero_ interest in fostering a male brat.

She turned her head, still lying and grabbed her mobile. It was like a sanctuary for her these days, she thought cynically. _Pathetic._

She scrolled over list back and forth. Serena...maybe. No. She wanted to hear her voice but she'd ask her what was going on and she didn't have the heart to explain it to herself, much less to Serena.

She didn't want to talk to Dorota because she'd bring her mother up.

That only left him, what the hell. She never thought she'd live to see the day when she would have Dan Humphrey addressed in her phone logs for the larger part of her days.

She hesitated for a while, still scrolling back and forth the D's. It had been five days since they last talked because she didn't want to deal with confronting him. He had thrown his quitting and failing into her mix of jumbled brainwork she didn't even want to make sense of, and now his words were threatening her to find a sequence to them before time ran out.

She didn't want to disturb the cycle. She loathed the subjugation change brought with it.

She paused her hand on his name.

_Oh, for crying out aloud_, she gave up, exasperated and ringed him up.

"Hey, Blair," she heard his soft voice.

Calm and composed. It instantly straightened her nerves.

"Hi, Humphrey," she whispered back softly.

There was a pause. "Something wrong?" he sounded confused.

She was amused. "I don't always have to be yelling at you, you know," she said, a little louder this time.

He chuckled. "Yeah, you don't."

She didn't reply.

He didn't continue.

She heard him waiting in the silence.

She couldn't understand how they went on like this...without_ saying _anything. Confirming anything. It would feel so awkward, doing that.

Or maybe they were just above it.

That time she had said sorry to him...she had almost thought she was high because she had blurted it out instinctively. She had no intention of saying it when she had called him up...she had just somehow hoped he had forgotten about it. It wasn't her saying it. It was some kind of desperation tucked away in a corner.

Also that she wanted to watch movies with someone. As contrary to doing that alone. Very badly.

"I'm going to have a sibling soon."

His words recoiled in surprise. "Woah...wow, I mean - that's...great news. Congratulations."

"My life is just a plethora of surprises, isn't it?" Blair sighed shortly. "And I'm moving permanently in November. No time to instill my precious values in my kid sister."

"It could be a brother."

"Ugh. I want no brother. Brothers ruin everything."

He laughed lightly. "I've noticed."

She hovered on to a delicate topic uncertainly.

"How was it like...with Milo?"

"Milo," he repeated after some silence. "He was...amazing. Talented for a fourteen-month old. Cute. Unbearably cute," he finished, chuckling faintly at the last moment.

Blair smiled weakly, shaking her head, staring at the ceiling, unconsciously drawing a lock of her hair.

"And he...he wasn't fussy, you know? I used to play Tumbling Monkeys with him often. Although he looked more intent on nibbling on those things."

Blair laughed with Dan at that, rolling over.

He didn't say anything for a while. Blair observed her mattress design.

"I wonder how he's growing up sometimes," he finally said. "Infants can do that to you. People love to exchange affection without any give or take."

Blair stopped running her hand on the pale orange ovals.

"Waldorf, I'm talking more than you today," he changed the subject.

"You are the wise guru. Talk on."

"Ouch."

She sighed and tolled her eyes with some effort. "Well, spare me, Dan. I'm serious. And I'm tired. And I'm leaving this place after four days. But before that I have to go down and have dinner with Princess Sophie. I only called up to be entertained."

"_Ouch._"

Blair breathed out. "Compliment, Dan. I could have called up Dorota for that."

Dan sighed back shortly. "Don't they telecast The Simpsons in Monaco?"

"You're odd."

"You're cagey."

"Has Eric left?"

"Yes. I'm all alone in this big house. I could sleep out in the porch."

"Terrible strategy."

"It's called an adventure, Blair. Not sure how many you've had."

"_Oh_. Look who's talking."

"You're becoming weaker at this comeback thing, Waldorf."

"Oh, shut up."

"See?"

"I have too much on my mind to add smartass retorts my top priority."

"Better," she heard his smile.

"Shut it, Humphrey" she flushed a little.

"Well," his voice drooped, a little husky.

It sounded a little attractive. Nothing like Chuck's younger-Lee-Marvin whispers but...

She was dreaming things. She was tired. Her frontal lobe was connecting random intel.

What _was_ this thing about Humphreys?

"So," he continued in that mildly husky (and _mildly_ alluring) voice. "Did this wise sage's words have any effect on you?"

She widened her eyes. "What?"

He sighed. "I told you to think about it. I'm not going to let you beat about the bush here."

_Oh._

That Humphrey appeal included its straightforward integrity.

But it could still drive her nuts.

"I'm..." she answered after a while. "Louis and I...we're normal. I know his background throws a neon sign glow to our relationship, but...sometimes, I'm happy without any complications or fall-outs, Humphrey. Louis is that for me. He's_ there_. That's all I want."

"I respect that, but..." she head him sigh. "Were you listening to anything I had said?" he asked patronisingly.

"Of_ course _I was," she argued, offended. "You said I should know when to quit. Well, this was not an easy option. I never make easy decisions. I always have to sacrifice a prerogative important to me."

"Blair," he whispered.

"Stop patronising me! I-" she began in heated tones but took an abrupt overture. She was tired. Tired of arguing. Exhausted of reasoning. Weary of uncertainties. "I don't know. I can't...I...I have no idea what to think."

"I'll tell you then," he replied, softly.

She allowed, silently.

"I think...I think the Blair I have seen glimpses of," he continued in the same tone. "The Blair who had to fax a letter to about...three-hundred machines to get into W, the Blair who wanted to stand up on her own feet and resorted to all sorts of game plans just to grab the attention of Indra Nooyi," he chuckled lightly. "That Blair, Waldorf...I think there's a part of that Blair in you that still wants to break free."

She blinked.

"As much as you want your prince in shining armour," he stated. "Or in this case, shining_ plaid_, to give you the love you deserve, I think there's a bigger fraction of you that wants to make things happen yourself."

She exhaled the breath she was holding back slowly.

"What do you think?" he asked.

She thought.

"I think," she answered. "That living in The Hamptons increases your smugness levels."

He laughed. "I think there might be some quantity of truth in that. Louis coming back with you to New York?"

"...yeah. He has to look into everything there too."

"Hmm. You know Chuck and Nate are staying with Serena for a while?"

"Yes, Serena told me. But don't get your hopes up, I'll have the preparations to take care of. You'll have to watch most movies on your own."

He sighed. "I'm sure. Best of luck for that in UES, Blair. I'll look forward to seeing you do it."

She paused. "I'm sure you will, considering all the encouragement I have been getting from you."

He didn't say anything.

She cleared her throat. "Well, I have to go downstairs now and face the music for nothing. Good night."

"Night, Blair. Good luck for that too...be well-mannered."

She responded with a sarcastic but childish 'hee-hee' that sounded very much unlike her and threw her phone on the bed, standing up quickly and scrambling towards her wardrobe.

She felt the most extreme of two opposite spectrum of emotions for him sometimes.

[{}][{}][{}]

Blair crawled into bed again late at night, any signs of sleep at bay.

Four days and she'll be back in town. She was thankful that Chuck wasn't around for those few initial days...that would have definitely made things complicated. She just had to continue with the preparations. And she would have Dorota and all her_ minions_, so that would definitely be a step-up from this.

Blair closed her eyes. Numb. That's what she was feeling thinking of this. There was something just not involved - something very significant. She couldn't find a heart to do it.

But Louis...she couldn't. She couldn't leave him.

He was...safe. He made her giddy with happiness when he was with her.

When he was around.

And then everyone, _everyone_ - she was finding it difficult to imagine how life would be like without everything that she had identified with since her preschool days.

And _Chuck_...and, and, and _Dan_...

Dan was Serena's. Dan was...she didn't have think about him.

She focused_. Chuck. _She felt long worn-out stabs all over, thinking about him. Chuck...that was indescribable. Nothing was ever easy between them. Their relationship was an allegiance to lust and turncoats and angst and covens. But shutting down things with him, permanently...it was like a long chapter of her life finally concluding but without any curb. Any demarcation.

She endured prolonged conflicts in letting things go.

_Tiring._

But she smiled. She could definitely do with some New York to cheer her up.

The she looked around the mess that was her room.

_As much as time would allow it, _she thought_._

* * *

><p><strong>an:**

:

**Just another reviewer:** Awh, you like B&S too? :D I love their songwriting. Murdoch has this way of implying some serious sad undertones beneath his rich stories. :)

Thanks for reviewing. x :)

**tn09:** No problem. I pay attention to constructive criticism and it's okay. You can speak your mind about whatever you think of my writing. And thank you! That's a big compliment for me. :) And yeah, I was aiming for that. Glad you thought so. :) Thank you for reviewing!

[]

_I swear I'll update soon next time. No, really._

_Kindly review._


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Not exactly the quickest update I had hoped for at all, but this one is much longer than what I usually write and...I had a lot of fun with it but I'm not too sure about it at the same time. Let me know what you think. (:**

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><p><em>I dreamed you were a cosmonaut<br>Of the space between our chairs.  
>And I was a cartographer<br>Of the tangles in your hair._

_The awkward pause -  
>The fatal flaw -<br>Time, it's a crooked bow._

- Armchairs, Andrew Bird

[{}][{}][{}]

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><p><strong>| -Chapter Six- |<strong>

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><p><em>Gossip Girl here. Manhattan never seemed as small as when The Beautiful and the Damned headed for the west coast and a certain brunette escaped to the Land of Paella. Seems like out thirsts will be appeased by a scanty circle this time. This just in: B making a head towards home on a lazy Monday morning with a prince on her arm. A word of advice, B: prostration never won many battles.<em>

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><p>Blair walked into the lift of the penthouse, hand in hand with Louis. She smiled dizzily. <em>Home<em>, finally.

"Your mother will be awake at this odd hour?" Louis asked in his French accent.

"Of course," she looked at him. Then she thought of her pregnancy. "Or maybe not."

The lift doors opened and they were greeted by a giddy Dorota and a smiling Eleanor standing side by side.

Blair almost ran to hug them while Louis strolled behind.

"_Blair,_" Eleanor smiled and gave her a hug.

"Congratulations, mother," she hugged her back.

"Mees Blair, you got new haircut," Dorota said with large eyes.

Blair grinned brightly. "And I see you've just had a new facial. Oh, I missed you, Dorota," she hugged her again.

"How do you do?" Louis shook Eleanor's hand.

"I have run the bath for you upstairs, Mr. Louis, if you'll follow me," Dorota said to Louis before they disappeared.

Blair looked back her mother, smiling.

"Now, Blair, I now you must be tired with jet-lag but I have to discuss your schedule for today with you. We need to go to your stylist first; I have scheduled an appointment with her. And the Linleys were adamant on wanting to meet you, especially since Cyrus is here; you know it would be a long time you would be able to meet them next," Eleanor said, combing her hair with her fingers.

Pregnancy definitely changed moods.

"Mother," she said exasperatedly, removing her handbag. "I don't have any _time. _You know I have to go to Madison Ave with Louis, I can't spare any energy to meet the entirety of Upper East Side – not _now_."

"Blair!" she heard a jubilant boom and turned around.

"Cyrus, Blair does not approve of our arrangement," her mother announced.

"Oh, but," Cyrus came over with his hands outstretched and Blair leaned down to hug him. "You _have_ to," he said leaning back. "I already promised Tabitha and she is not a woman who likes delays. How have you been, child?" he patted her cheek.

"_Cyrus_," she explained impatiently. "I'll meet her later. I already have appointments and I can't cancel _them_. I have a very tight schedule and I cannot afford any intervention - "

"Nothing that can't be postponed," he continued casually, flailing his arms. "Now, where is that boy, Louis? I'd hate to keep him waiting. He needs some man-to-man." Eleanor gestured to her right and Cyrus glided towards the hallway. Blair inconspicuously rolled her eyes.

This was going to be a long day.

[{}][{}][{}]

After a series of proceedings Dan was finally back in the loft. Lily had invited him for lunch while the Van der Woodsen apartment seemed stark empty. Serena, Nate and Chuck intended to be back the next week while Eric had moved to set up his Sarah Lawrence dorm. Lily was kind, as usual - her anklet monitor had just come off - but inadvertently probing and he didn't really have many answers regarding Felipe because Eric hadn't been too open about how he would make a long-distance relationship work, neither could he answer any deep queries about Serena and he definitely did not have any idea about any racecourse in The Hamptons that had been in the news recently.

His dad had instead waited till they could be isolated so they could have their idiosyncratic chats.

He didn't want to tell him about Vanessa or the novel any time soon. He had planned it, however, that he'd be obliged to tell him before he'd know that it was published and circling in the UES. Not to mention that it would lighten a colossal load off him.

He had left the vacation house under a lease if he ever planned to go back because he had to admit - vacationing in The Hamptons wasn't bad at all - and Cynthia had left for Dallas while promising to remain in contact. She suggested she could be at NYC for further studies after a couple of years.

Blair, meanwhile, for all he knew was passed out from the jet-lag due to the flight because his cell hadn't registered any call from her.

Knowing her though, that wasn't very probable because she was probably running amok her schedules.

He had all intentions to be openly dissatisfied.

So he found himself outside the Waldorf penthouse at nine p.m., because he had nothing better to do till college started and also because...there was no reason why he didn't want to see her.

He had more reasons than anybody she knew to feel compelled to do just that.

The lift doors opened and he saw Blair, Louis and Eleanor gathered and discussing something vigorously.

The elevator made its customary sound declaring his arrival and he walked in and they collectively lifted their eyes to look at the intruder.

Dan stopped mid-step.

Oh, how he had missed Blair Waldorf's expressions.

He scanned her from head to toe inconspicuously – as subtly as he could when there were three pairs of eyes trained on him.

New hairstyle. Her hair fell instinctually onto her collarbone. He could admit he appreciated that scenery.

"Wrong timing?" he looked over to the group after he had reached her eyes.

"Oh," Blair looked at him. And for a moment he felt like the inherent guards in her eyes that were always up were dropping down, one by one.

He raised his eyebrows in acknowledgement.

She exchanged glances with Louis and Eleanor and said sharply, "Just a minute," and walked towards him.

"Well...hello," he greeted Eleanor and Louis as they stared at him and Blair walked past him, inclining her head, motioning him to follow her.

He turned back and she leaded him outside into the foyer.

Pleasant memories he had of this place.

She turned to face him, raising her eyebrows feebly.

He stared at her. "Greetings, Blair," he waved awkwardly and she lifted her lips minutely in amusement. "Long time, no see."

"I was going to talk to you tonight. Don't have kittens," she looked him over for a longer time than necessary. "Did you bother changing clothes today at all?"

"Well," he replied, sighing. "I feel welcomed."

"There's a time and place for everything, Humphrey," she looked over his shoulder and then back to him. She searched his eyes and scanned him for a while. "Mother and Cyrus have kept me so busy _and_ I have not talked to anyone," she paused. "You should have expected my call later."

"No, it's just...an earlier update would have been...nicer."

"Do I ask Dorota for some iced tea to straighten your nerves?" she looked up at him charismatically.

"If this is going to take too much of my time and you need to have that conversation urgently," he gestured backwards. "I'll buy an Arnold Palmer on my way back instead."

She looked over his shoulder again for a second and grabbed him and pushed him on the couch. "You stay here," she said maliciously and stalked off. Dan stared after her, feeling agreeably assaulted.

Ten minutes later Dorota handed him an iced tea as he squirmed uncomfortably under her mistrustful beady eyes.

Blair walked in just then and plopped next to him on the couch. "Mother expects me to accompany her to meet every resident of the Upper East Side," she stated.

"Charming," he answered, raising his glass.

She stared at him with intrusive eyes in such a way that prickled his skin.

"You look like you've gained some weight," she said after a while.

He blanched and laughed and almost spilled his drink all at the same time. "_Me?_"

He caught her looking at his shoulders. "It _shows_," she said throatily and rolled her eyes.

"I have _not_. In fact, I have been going to a gym."

She gaped at him. "A _gymnasium_…and Daniel Humphrey?" she let out an almost haughty laugh.

He shook his head. "And you, Waldorf, look like you've changed colours and undergone multiple fevers," he put his glass on the side table and almost had an urge to touch her fore head to examine. Almost.

"_I_ just need some..."she covered her mouth delicately and yawned lightly. "Sleep," she croaked.

He laughed.

She glared at him.

And Eleanor walked in.

"Daniel," she greeted elegantly but loudly enough to sever their eye-contact.

They jumped and Dan stood up to shook Eleanor's hand. "How do you do, Mrs. Waldorf ? Congratulations for Blair's wedding and the…"

"Oh, I'm very fine and thank you," Eleanor cut in and oscillated her gaze over to Blair and then back to him.

"So you came back today too," she commented.

"Uh, yes. I was staying with Eric at The Hamptons. He...left for Sarah Lawrence. "

"I know, Lily told me," she nodded at him, unsure as her gaze wandered over to Blair. "I presume that you and Blair have been bonding."

"Uh..oh, yeah. Just lately, when we...don't have anything else to do," he finished lamely.

Eleanor scrutinised Dan while Blair glanced at her mother peripherally.

Blair broke in. "Dan's right. Nothing to wonder about. Mother, why don't you rest now? You need it. There's an infant growing inside you!"

"Blair! Nobody talks that way," she retorted in astonishment, turning her eyes at her. "And when I'm in the middle of a conversation with Daniel here -"

"You know what, I think...I should go," he shifted his feet, looking between mother and daughter. "I have some work hung up at the loft and Dad said he'll come over too so," he glanced at Blair. "I should go."

Blair looked at him with slightly wide eyes and didn't say anything.

"Nice meeting you, Mrs. Waldorf," he shook Eleanor's hand.

"Oh, my pleasure. I fancy I don't see much of you around. Have a good night, Daniel," she smiled.

Dan nodded in acknowledgement.

"Yeah, see you...Humphrey. Have great Turkey Chili tonight," Blair said.

"I'll see you and Louis at the party tomorrow night," he announced and greeted his farewell and walked out.

[{}][{}][{}]

Dan turned his backside to the bar, holding the drink and scanned the crowd.

He was at the party Lily had decided to host for no apparent reason at all - except maybe celebrating the coming off of her anklet.

Too many people, yet too less.

Insider. He didn't fit here. This world flirted with power and manipulation yet still wrapped up in naive expectations. A world waiting to be written on. Everything that he wasn't and had never wished to be.

How did he land up here? How did he end up being involved in its warped intricacies? Sophistication belonged about as far away from him as it did to Sid Vicious.

This was no place for him. His world used to revolve around Brooklyn's coffee shops. Not Manhattan's chandeliers and stiletto heels.

He spotted Blair at the corner of his eye in a cocktail dress coming parallel to his direction.

"Blair," his thoughts halted as he called out perfunctorily.

She stopped abruptly and turned her head at him.

"_What_, Humphrey?" she sighed.

He inclined his head. "What's eating you?" he hadn't exchanged any word with her since last night when she had finally phoned him. But that had ended too quickly, just like the meeting before that.

He had seen her entering through the door though.

She walked three steps in front of him. "I cannot find Louis. Mrs. Ettenson wants to meet him. And he has just disappeared!" she looked around the hall.

"I think I saw him somewhere over there," he pointed in the direction.

"Oh," she looked over and then back to him. "Well, thanks," she didn't catch his eye and began walking again.

Maybe he had pushed the Louis thing to the limit of exhibiting awkwardness by _Blair Waldorf_.

"_Blair_," he called out again softly, determinedly.

She turned back again and raised her eyebrows at him in impatience.

He gestured her over.

"I _do_ _not_ have time for this, Humphrey. You may continue sipping your dark coffee or daydream about Mia Michaels."

"Who is that?" he asked, confused. "I was going to ask you if you want to go the Whitney."

"Yes. Maybe when my hourglass runs out of sand," she quipped.

He huffed deeply. "Alright then, run off to your prince," he shrugged and started to turn back.

Blair took a few steps and stopped him mid-motion. "I would have loved to sit and drink gin and prescribe you anti-anxiety drugs, but I'm tied to obligations. I'm sure you can find yourself admissible company for your criterion. Oh look," she gestured behind his back. "Someone's tragic taste in ties is piercing my eyesight from a yard away. Go meet him! You might discover he has a taste for lame sci-fi catchphrases too."

"And here I thought four months would be enough for Blair Waldorf to get over my trivial flaws," he drawled.

She chuckled a short chuckle. "That won't happen in a long time. Not even when you're forty and relegated to editing fairytale compilations for kids," she responded cheerily. He felt something smooth glide over his arm and looked sideways to see her hand touching him, trying to get him up and standing. She smiled her typical smile that didn't give away anything except exude a sense of patronisation.

His eyes drifted down again at his arm. Looked up. "Go," she mouthed.

He stared blankly at her mouth. "_You_ go," he replied blandly in an attitude unlike him. "Leave me to my brooding."

She removed her hand and made a face. "Someone's itchy," he thought she waited for him to comment but he didn't. "Ugh, _rude_, Lord Byron. I will withdraw to let you drown in your angst now," and she walked away, heavy in her steps. He almost thought she was trying to dramatically stomp her exit out.

Some kind of sophisticated princess-ly behaviour. He turned back and watched her back ambling back to the middle of the array and he could see a strand of copper brown hair falling out of her pin-up. And her dress accentuating the casual sway of her hips. And the curve in her neck while she was turning to address somebody...

He turned back to his side. Distraction. Too many things coagulating his grey matter he needed another _distraction_.

So he stared down at his plain vodka.

Remarkable. This would definitely keep his mind off the hazy minefield his mind was so intent on hopping around.

::::::

He finished his vodka in just about forty five minutes. He strolled lazily towards his father who was sipping on a lychee martini.

"Someone looks tired," Rufus looked at Dan.

"I _am_, Dad. Tired out of my _mind_," Dan picked up a drink from a passing waiter.

"Been developing new habits, Dan? I saw you were at the bar the past hour too," Rufus looked distractedly at the drink in his hand.

Dan's eyes wandered across the hall. "Just that I'd rather be at a pretentious band's concert than here. At least it won't be this _monotonous._" He caught Blair's eye across the room. She turned her head away from him snobbishly and started talking to a bystander animatedly.

"I would ask you if you wanted to come and watch some Swamp Men with good old Dad back at the _loft_," Rufus suggested. "But you seem like you have better things to watch."

Dan turned his head to face him sardonically. Rufus's eyes were in the same direction as his were ten seconds back.

Rufus shifted and gestured at Dan's drink knowingly. Dan stood drinking cautiously for a couple of minutes.

"Let's do it," Dan said suddenly after a while, losing his direction of thoughts. He couldn't seem to concentrate. "There's nothing like an on-screen alligator to cheer me up."

"Ah'ite, let's go," his dad said in a fake Texan accent as he placed back his drink.

Dan chuckled distractedly. "Go ahead. I'll be there in a minute." Blair was standing alone for once, surprisingly.

Rufus glanced at him. "Fine, I'll be _outside_ at the reception," he said and walked away.

Dan passed his glass to a waiter and walked over to her.

She looked at him like she had just tasted ash.

He sighed exasperatedly. "I'm _sorry_, Waldorf, okay?"

Waldorf. Grimaldi? _Waldorf._

"What's gotten into you tonight, Humphrey?" she accused him in a levelled voice. "You're moodier than Pierrot the clown!"

"Hormonal changes," he retorted sarcastically. His mind was getting woozy. "No, uh...Blair," he said softly. "Sorry for being such an ass," he deadpanned.

She rewarded him with a small smile. "You're exonerated. Now, do you want to meet Mr. Dewar or do you still want to slink into a corner and draw air knives?" she grabbed his arm again.

His vodka-induced mind wanted to reach out and tuck that strand neatly behind her ear. Just once. His fingers were almost evolving reflex actions of their own in response to unforeseen stimulus.

"What will I do meeting him?" he asked, confused.

She rolled her eyes and his eyes followed her fingers securing the strand in its place.

"I don't know! Introduce yourself! Have a polite conversation - which you've hardly had tonight."

"No, no..." he shook his head, his mind growing more unclear by the minute, aware of the weight of her palm on his arm. "I have an appointment with my dad. He's waiting outside. We're going to check out pandas and raccoons together."

"Such high culture tastes," she commented, without any actual mockery. "Fine," she let him go. "Go forward and lose an uncommon opportunity to be acquainted with royalty."

"But, I am, already," he looked at her pointedly. His arm whined to him.

Too much awareness. Too much.

And what was worse was that they didn't confirm anything. _Anything._ Only sanctioned it, without saying.

It was precarious. And addictive.

He was going to internally combust someday soon if his life went on in this undefined trend.

He looked at her hard.

Didn't she identify one ounce of what _he_ did? It couldn't be.

But then...

His mind unscrambled his flow of thoughts again. He couldn't think. He felt light-headed.

She shifted her eyes consciously from him and nodded shortly. "Have fun with the animals!"

He gave her a lazy, lopsided smile. That strand was pretty stubborn. "You have fun with the preparations, Waldorf."

Then he reached out and tucked it behind her ear – only registering a flicker of astonishment because she was forced to turn her eyes back to him before he turned his back - because what the hell, he could put the blame on the alcohol in his system.

[{}][{}][{}]

Dan surprisingly found himself in a deep conversation with Louis that next afternoon at the Van der Woodsen dining hall where Lily had invited everyone for lunch while the little party was scattered across the room.

"Our system is more distributed than centralised. Divided astutely between the council and the monarchy. It's pretty efficient."

Louis smiled at him. Dan nodded reluctantly. "Efficient; I can see a few reasons why. But pretty backbreaking for you, I presume." Dan said. "The summer kept you busy, I hear."

Louis looked down at his hands for a moment. "It did, yes. I was unable to spend time with my family. And Blair." Louis lifted up his eyes to where Blair was standing chatting with Lily.

Dan followed his gaze and stayed there a while. "Don't worry. She didn't get too lonely."

Louis turned his head to look at him. "You're pretty close to her. Trust me, I tried so hard but I just couldn't save the time after a while. I would have wanted to show her every corner of Monaco if I had the opportunity."

"No, I understand," Dan took his hands off the table and leaned back. "Patriotic obligations – first and foremost. There's only a scheduled time for royal wooing after all."

Before Louis could reply to that Dan saw Blair approaching them.

"What are you two talking about?" she cut in, apprehension clouding her tone.

Dan smiled at her shortly, raising his eyebrows "Exchanging political opinions and courtship practices."

"Very well," she replied, rattled; her walls cementing up. "But I want Louis to come with me now." She grabbed his arm. Louis got up.

"Charming conversation, Daniel," Louis smiled. Dan got up and shook his hand. "I hope we'll see more of each other."

"Oh, I do, too," Dan answered back, glimpsing at Blair. She was watching him with suspicious eyes and an annoyed pout. His favourite expression, he thought sardonically.

Louis looked at Blair questioningly. "Why haven't I met Daniel before?"

"He must have been busy picking flowers for his bipolar girlfriend," she looked at him with that bigoted familiarity.

"Actually I was busy tie-shopping," he defied.

She narrowed her cinnamon eyes at him. "So now you may board onto shoe-shopping. God knows it might do you some good. Run along now, Humphrey; you're needed at many venues."

"Hadn't known my shoes were a subject of scrutiny. I don't know what is next in the line," his mouth talked before he could think.

Blair gaped at him and started a retort but Louis cut in. "Is something wrong?" He asked, his eyes moving between the pair of them.

Dan's 'Not much' was drowned by Blair's abrupt 'No!'.

"No," Blair repeated, looking at Louis and then looking at Dan from under her lashes. "I want you to meet Lily. Then back to the penthouse to look at the arrangements."

Dan shrugged. "I take that as my cue to leave," he shook Louis's hand again. "It's been a pleasure. Have a nice stay in New York."

Louis nodded back at him, smiling as Blair said, "I _guarantee_ he will. _You_ don't worry," she gifted him a sarcastic million dollar smile.

Dan looked at her. "Got it, Blair," he paused and sighed. "By the way, your bracelet's coming off."

She stared at him, confused and then looked down at her hand on Louis's arm. The metal was caught between the threads of his shirt.

Dan pressed his lips together, nodded at Louis one last time, turned back and walked away.

* * *

><p><strong>AN 2:**

**chiara:** Thank you! :) Sorry I didn't update sooner. D:

**Just another reviewer:** Yeah, she uses altered versions like that and 'wuck', lol. But I was wondering if somebody would find that odd! I deleted that line, for the benefit of the doubt, because maybe it sounded a bit crude. Thanks! :) And yeah, that's how I recognise her too, haha. :)


	7. Chapter 7

_J'y Suis Jamais Alle_ __(I've Never Been There)__ - Yann Tiersen __

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><p><strong>||- Chapter Seven-||<strong>

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><p>Blair was scrutinising her when she heard a knock on her open door. She smiled at Louis widely as he walked in and stood in front of her.<p>

"So," she said coyly. "I know that you and I should be busy with the preparations...but I just _happen_ to have authority to two exclusive tickets to tonight's orchestra at Dicapo," she sing-songed.

Louis returned her smile and reached out for her hand, enveloping it with his own.

"I hate to break your heart, Blair, but Mr. Rose just invited me to his dinner party where he invites his near friends. I dropped by to inform you. I know I had said I'd spent time with you, but...there's nothing I can do to get out of this proposition."

Blair's smile died down. "Cyrus?" she made a noise of disbelief and then sought damage-control. "I can talk to him. I'll tell him to postpone it – and we can -"

"I did. I talked to him. I told him that too, but he said he only had his dinner parties on Sundays when all his friends arrive too. And...I don't feel like refusing him, Blair. He's only here for the next two days, isn't he?" he led her to the bed to sit.

She looked at him, disoriented, "I promise," he continued. "_Really_ promise that we'll spend the evening together tomorrow. No high society parties, no parents and no family friends – just you and me," he touched her cheek. "Blair? Last time, I swear. You can't imagine how frustrated I am about this too."

"I don't know. This is supposed to be for us – together, and we have hardly spent any time in these months, and -" just explaining it made her impatient and uncomfortable. She couldn't fight with Louis.

They never fought.

"Really, Blair," Louis filled in her abrupt silence. "I will, this time. I _will_ tell Lucien to book two advanced tickets right now and we can go out for dinner after that too..." she smiled reluctantly at that. He smiled too and he proceeded to kiss her, disappointment slowly weighing on her.

[{}][{}][{}]

"Meet me at St. Anne's Warehouse, 6 pm. Sharp."

He had suggested they go there a couple of days back.

Dan scrolled the screen for some more time aimlessly. He had grown so familiar to it that he could just hear her voice saying it.

He glanced at the clock. 5:30 and stalked out.

:::::::

He spotted her, eyeing the poster on the walls while moving away from an enthusiastic crowd cautiously.

"How did you fit this into your snug schedule, Waldorf?" he came to a stop beside her, gazing at Rosanne Cash.

"I needed a break," she whispered after some time. "Besides, Louis is out with Cyrus on an private fête," she remarked caustically, then sighed. "I am not even allowed to spend time with my own fiancé," she said unsympathetically.

He turned his head at her. "Let's go?"

She responded to his soft inquiry with a mocking expression to which he just shrugged innocently and led her in the direction, a small smile slipping onto his lips helplessly.

:::::::

"Just shuffle along, Waldorf. Two feet more," he spoke. "You're used to leading the way." They had finished with the movie.

"Not when my plans involve stepping into a swampy, slushy…thing. Which they never are, not even fortuitously," she stressed, almost cringing back two steps and falling into him. "_Where _and _why _are we going -" he stepped ahead and lead her by the elbow.

"Dan, stop _dragging_ me into -" she stopped abruptly and inhaled behind clenched teeth when he stopped and she saw the view.

"So," Dan looked at Blair smugly after a considerable stretch of time.

Her wide-eyed gaze turned to address him. "Wow."

He nibbled on his lower lip to restrain a chuckle. "We're at the Empire Stores, if you're wondering, and this is the Brooklyn Bridge Park. And that, of course." He pointed gracefully. "Is the Brooklyn Bridge. Looks much better from this side, doesn't it?"

She stared at the view. "Maybe if the grass was mowed and there were actual railings and everyone wouldn't have to go back with their shoes completely destroyed in that marsh that is supposed to be a lame excuse for a pathway, then yes, it might."

"Oh, well," Dan mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

"Conversely," Blair went on, ignoring him. "It feels nice coming here where there are," she looked around. "More children than trashed teenagers," her voice dropped down and she rested her eyes on him. "It's unreal," she said quietly in a voice that contradicted her words. "The best view I've ever had," she looked ahead.

He looked at her softly. "Come on, let's go sit over there," he pointed and lead her. "Better view."

Blair tucked her legs beneath her on the bench. Dan leaned back and folded his arms at the back of his head.

"You know…I can see more stars tonight than the city lights," he observed, looking up.

She followed his gaze. "It's been so long since I have seen stars," she commented quietly.

"How long, Blair," he whispered back. He glanced from the corner of his eyes and saw her own roaming over the span of the sky.

"The last time I did some severe stargazing was…when things were falling apart with Chuck. About one and a half years back. It was the night after Dorota's wedding after..." she turned to look up at him from under her lashes. "You know." He nodded quietly.

"And I went up to the terrace," she continued, staring ahead. "That's one of the few times I remember looking at the stars. Besides when I was a seven-year old. Dorota used to take me then. But I don't think the Upper East Side sees many stars," she looked at him, slightly inquiringly and Dan noticed with awe that her eyes shining too, as if in reflection. "So…that tradition faded out," she finished.

He exhaled slowly. "That is…incredible," he remarked at her impulsive frankness. "I think we…I think you need to be introduced then," he looked at her.

"Introduced," she giggled inaudibly.

He shrugged. "I made up some of my own patterns when I was younger," he informed awkwardly.

She offered him her smile of a cheshire cat and tilted her head. "Did you? I would be thrilled to be acquainted with your novice discoveries."

"Well," he ducked his head and looked up. "I can't guarantee you'll see them all tonight or not, can I? So maybe we can make up our own in the process," he looked at her by his side and grinned.

And sometimes along the way when he realised that he was playing with her fingers, she hadn't let go.

:::::::

"_And_ I see creepy people here," Blair observed, shrinking.

"No, they are…" he noticed her disgusted expression and followed her line of sight. "Uh," he grabbed her hand. "It's just this street. About twenty more seconds before we cross it…I think we should have hailed that taxi," he said instead.

"What are you talking about? I could trade my annual birthday tiaras for nightly walking hours in Brookyln."

"Hey. Blair. I'm sorry. Wrong rule of thumb," he mumbled.

"You mean you took one yard for a mile?" she said drily.

Dan stopped as they crossed the street. "See? No more lurking population here. Much better," he said in a doubtfully reassuring voice.

"Are you sure, Humphrey?" she asked as she scanned the deserted area.

"Yeah," he exhaled. "Ten minutes from here," he said confidently,

She made a vocal noise and swung their locked hands in protest. "Oh. Right. And those ten minutes will transmute to half an hour, I'm presuming? My feet, Humphrey, my feet," she whimpered uncharacteristically and looked down at her feet and Dan trailed her sight and they looked back up together after a while.

Blair stared at him. "I think I have blisters!" she cried. "And it would require Dorota atleast ten rounds of tea oil before my feet are reinstated to their original health, especially after all those…bogs."

He considered her solemnly. "You're right, it's my fault. I should have hired that taxi for us and not resorted to this so-called shortcut – and I feel like such an ass – I could lift you or something - to the loft – I'm sure it's just ten minutes and it won't be much of a deal –"

"Humphrey -" she interrupted his babble in a weak, caught off-guard tone. "That's…really not necessary. I can handle ten minutes actually; I'm not in such dire need of physical assistance, And really, I wasn't…creeped out," she reiterated feebly.

He looked at her and shook his head because she looked like she had just been a victim of reverse psychology.

"I'm serious," he said. "I promise I'll run some hot water when we reach the loft. Better than what Dorota…runs. And -"

"Oh my God, let's just go! I was only throwing a tantrum and why wasn't that automatically neurotransmitted to you? I think the stars dazzled your senses into impotence. I'm malicious enough myself to stand creepy people, she dragged him.

"Well," he replied from behind her, surprised at the tirade. "You really sounded mad. And it's a really late hour; I hadn't planned this to go beyond what it has."

"Why haven't I ever seen this phenomenal sample of ransacked architecture before?" she digressed cheerily. "Won't you care to inform me, Dan?"

He stared at her, thought this night was impossible and considered how she made him feel both stupid and smart as the situation demanded it and answered her.

[{}][{}][{}]

Dan Humphrey was mesmerised by the sight of a barefooted Blair Waldorf on his couch with her legs sprawled over to the extreme end.

She had declined his offer of the hot steam, explaining that she didn't want to exhaust his water resources and that she had mistaken a hapless twig for a blister on her sole.

He walked over to the couch, having changed into a fresh shirt after they had arrived, and handed over one of the two coffee cups he was holding. "Scoot."

She shuffled her legs back deftly and he plopped down.

She was checking her phone. He regarded her next to him, sitting assuredly and for once not commenting offhandedly about things that made him question contrasts. For a moment he felt lightheaded by the sheer visceral sense of familiarity that somehow felt like it really _belonged_.

She shifted her eyes to him surreptitiously and caught him looking at his expression, which was most probably dizzy, he thought. "What is it?" she narrowed her eyes.

"Not much," he said casually. "Coffee," he gestured.

She took a sip. "I called up home. The chauffeur should be here within twenty minutes."

He swimmed back to the shores of reality.

"He should be," he picked up the newspaper from the coffee table. "Art show tomorrow," he pointed at a column.

"Visit and send me your verdict," she replied shortly.

He sighed. "Right, I get it. More preparations. You're missing out on a lot. Caveat Emptor."

"I _knew_ there are obvious responsibilities that come with a royal wedding," she stressed. "It's even fun somewhat."

He raised his eyebrows. "It _is_!" she put her cup on the table and swung her legs on her side. "Why wouldn't I like shopping on the beat? It's just…been in fast motion lately. I am...just finding it hard to keep up."

"Which is why you need breaks such as today's."

"_Today_ was a rare outing. Possibly the only in a long time," she dismissed.

"I have no idea how you're doing this," he sighed.

"I have no idea what you're referring to," she said shakily and shifted her interest to her cell phone again.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation and snatched her phone from her fingers as she let out a tiny whine, then dropped it on the table behind the couch, out of her reach.

"Open your eyes," he leaned closer.

"Cheesy," she observed, frowning, not even arguing.

"Fine. I'm going to leave this issue alone entirely," he leaned back and brought his cup to his lips.

"Alright," she retorted with wavering confidence. She tapped her feet slowly for a while as he observed her side profile.

She turned her head to face him and he raised his eyebrows again.

She began saying something but then her resolve broke and she instead asked in a tired voice, "Do you think you can make me another cup?"

He exhaled shortly. "As much as I love promoting my beverage skills, I don't think so. You need sleep. Not caffeine."

She scowled at him and turned away.

He placed his cup, turned at right angle to her and shifted a few inches closer. She cleared her throat. She was feeling threatened about Louis, he could tell.

"I should get the sandals from the washing -"

"Yep, sure, good idea," he shuffled his legs to make way, but she walked right into his knees and almost stumbled.

"Woah, careful," he laughed and caught he arm and found that she almost a breath away from him. He stared, his grin fading, but didn't let go. But she straightened up shakily and swallowed, "Brookyln is not good for my health," and left the room.

Dan watched her back as she grew smaller and smaller and finally disappeared.

What was he doing today? He reflected as an upsurge of emotions flowed through him.

He cared about how she felt about things, regardless of what his own selfishness told him to do.

He thought of the two tickets he had considered buying and started feeling guilty. It bothered her a lot. She was virtually vibrating like a tuning fork. She was engaged and _they_ were hanging out. He winced as he registered his insides lurch at that thought. Albeit the fact that it wasn't technically defined; and he was thankful for it because he didn't want a suspicious spouse on his conscience.

He still felt like a douche.

All of these things he was doing with her – walking, arguing, _observing_ her – and he couldn't help Louis's face popping up at the front shield. It was bothersome. Like an unnecessary intrusion. Like a curtain he needed to draw aside And he felt guilty about that.

Because Louis wasn't a curtain. Dan was the curtain. Atleast in her perspective. He was the one she wanted to push aside. Him and all the insecurities he brought with everything that he had said to her. And as much as he enjoyed knowing that what he said and did got under her skin so_ badly_...he was trespassing. Louis wouldn't like it.

Louis, he worded out to himself, was. Her. Fiance.

Something inside him contracted., making him feel small. He didn't want distance. He was tired of distance. He didn't want to _not _see Blair Waldorf. He was sick of telephones. He wanted to see her living. Breathing. In front of him. He didn't even mind the intermittent ego stabs. He could even discard every component of his tasteless wardrobe for her; it dawned on him in numb horror.

But most of all – he didn't like it at all - but he practically heard something snapping inside him whenever he saw her with Louis. It was sick, them being so cuddly and what Lily described as _cute_ – when he knew they didn't go beyond that. He wanted to tell her that. But that would be pretty out of character of him.

But then he didn't even know where to draw the line anymore when it came to character.

Why did things have to go sic on him when things were going smoothly?

He had to let her choose for herself. She knew he didn't approve. He had signalled that in every possible way he could.

But he hadn't made her known of something that was constantly hovering over him either.

He hadn't specified that he was an option too.

Every single time his mind wandered over to this immeasurable angst tucked away in a corner, he had pulled away. He had done it since that day. He had done it even though _atleast he was not a child_. He had done it because rejection failed him. He had done it because he _had _to be kidding himself.

At some level, he was annoyed with her because fairytales really didn't exist in the world he lived in.

If they did...if they did, he wouldn't have to pull away from that corner. If they did, the effortlessness they shared wouldn't have been as bottomless in its future as it was. If they did, things would have fallen into place. And they would have felt right.

So he could just sit here and lose his mind not trying to explore that corner while the knots tied themselves tighter till they finally needed to be cut, or he could venture right through. He could continue playing the slideshow of his interpretations on every little thing she said and every action she did, or perhaps...he could just let her _know_.

Two rings broke him out of his reverie.

He checked his phone. It was a text from Nate.

"Arriving at 10 tom. morning instead of 11. Thought to update!"

He registered the other ring.

It was Blair's phone. He checked the screen.

Louis.

He thought desperately, whether to just pick it up or not and didn't hear the frantic footsteps while the phone kept ringing.

"What is this?" he heard her voice, her sharp, resonating voice and looked up, caught off-guard.

She was holding a book.

A book he had just memorised very angle of.

A book he had gotten a 'complimentary' pre-sold copy of this very morning in an anonymous package.

_His_ book.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

_Anon review replies:_

**chiara**: Haha, no, you didn't read too much into it. :) Sorry, I have outdone myself with a late update this time, lol, atleast according to me. I had planned to update much sooner but somehow this chapter didn't come to me until much later on. And thanks! Keeping characters in-character is the biggest compliment to me, I think. :)

**Just another reviewer**: Hahaha. Well, Luois, I think, is supposed to be nice. I liked him very much before dair happened. And doing a u-turn to his character would only feel glaringly contrived. :) Thanks!

**Mooni**: Thank you so much for the encouragement! I'm so glad it made you think that, since they certainly have a vast amount of unexplored potential. :) Thanks a lot again!


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